


Summergrown

by katajainen



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [7]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gardening, Gen, Hot Pepper, No beta - provided as is, The Summer of 1420, chili - Freeform, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katajainen/pseuds/katajainen
Summary: The summer of 1420 is just right for the strange seeds Sam brought home from his travels. The fruit, however, turns out to be a bit of a surprise.





	Summergrown

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8 of the February Ficlet Challenge, prompt: Character A encounters a very hot pepper.

There was a rap at his study door one sunny afternoon late in August. ‘What is it, Sam?’ Frodo asked, without looking up from the page he was writing.

‘Well, Mister Frodo, you remember those seeds I brought home from the White City this past year? The spicefruit ones? I think there’s finally one fruit that’s ripe enough for a taste.’

And as they went out to the back garden, one of the crinkly heart-shaped fruits in the gangly three-foot plant growing next to the tomatoes had indeed made the full journey from green to orange to bright red.

Sam tilted his head and considered the plant. ‘That one sure does need plenty of warmth, to have it take this long even on a summer like this.' He was right, of course. The summer of 1420 had been warm and sunny like no other in living memory. 'Now maybe if I built a tall enough cold frame...' Sam mused, then shrugged. 'But that’s next year.' He picked the single ripe fruit off the bush and cut out a hefty slice from the sharp end with a pocket knife. 'I always wondered what these tasted like fresh; the dried stuff surely had plenty of kick to it.'

Frodo had an inkling, but before he had a chance to put it to words, much less utter a warning, Sam had already popped the spicefruit slice into his mouth and was chewing thoughtfully.

'Now this is interesting...' he was saying when his eyes suddenly went very wide and his mouth opened in a soundless gasp.

'Hot?'

'Some,' Sam croaked, his watering eyes blinking furiously. 'Blimey, that caught me by surprise, make no mistake.'

‘Do you need a glass of water?’

Sam waved him off. ‘No– really, it’s not– it’s fine,’ he managed. ‘Well,’ he started again in a more composed tone, ‘it’s ripe all right, only now I have to think up some use for it! Can’t let all that work go to waste, after all.’ He turned the remaining fruit in his hands for a moment, and his expression grew thoughtful. ‘I did give some of the dried stuff to Mrs. Cotton, this past winter, and I did hear she did put some in the beef stew; worked out a treat, as far as I tasted.’

‘There is your answer then, Sam. Or think of a thick chicken soup, or any such thing that you would want to be taste nice and warm in wintertide.’

‘Of course!’ said Sam, delighted. ‘No use using it in summertime at all. Well now– do you think you could hang them to dry like apples?’

It turned out you could, with good results, and the next winter many a soup or stew or sauce served in Bag End had just that little bit more heat to it – and not only Bag End, for Sam’s eventual crop was far too large for the needs of their small household, and so he made gifts of the rest, with occasionally amusing results for the unwary.


End file.
